Gunblades and Sorceresses
by Crimson Iris
Summary: Just one of those FF8 novelizations. I'm doing it a bit differently, with more descriptions, so check it out if you want! Please R&R!


_Disclaimer: _I do not own Final Fantasy 8, or any of it's logos, characters, or worlds. I don't own SquareEnix, although I wish I did. So you no longer have the right to sue. TAKE THAT! 

_Author's Note: _Here's one of those Final Fantasy 8 novelizations. This one I've actually included in a college writing program I've taken. So, in my opinion, it's well-written. Please read and review to tell me what you think! This Prologue is Liveri Fatali, or the opening FMV for the game in novel form. I hope you like it!

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Prologue

_I'll be here…_

_Why?_

_I'll be here…waiting…_

_For what?_

_I'll be waiting…for you…_

_So…if you come here…you'll find me…_

_I promise._

A beach… A beautiful mix of light blue and white. Small waves coming in and pulling out. It was a wonderful sight to see.

The ocean… Where the waves of a beach call home. A darker shade of clear blue curves beneath the surface. A peaceful place to hear nothing but seagulls flapping their wings above you.

A desert… An area of drought, where nothing can stand to live. There was no grass, no cactuses, nothing but the cracks of the earthquake fault beneath your very feet.

The desert forms into a grassy field. Flowers are everywhere; it was a colorful field where feathers, violets, tulips, and all kinds of other flowers were found. Nowhere was as quiet and peaceful as here.

A young woman stands in the field; she is about eighteen years old. She wears a blue dress that reaches down to the heel of her shoes. The dress wraps around her shoulders, and is connected by a mere string at her chest. There are clothes underneath, though: a black and sky blue shirt and black shorts that are barely any higher than her knees. She wears wristbands on each of her arms. They are puffy baby blue wristbands no longer than her forearm. She wears black shoes that grab up to her ankles and a few inches higher. She has long, black hair that went down to her shoulder blades, but the hair is short enough to show the white wings on the back of her shirt. These aren't real wings, though; these are sewed into the shirt but look symbolic.

She is facing away, and the white wings can draw anyone in. They give a sense of fantasy and peace. She is looking up into the distant sky, looking for something. A feather floats down, blown in the wind, and she catches it slowly in her right hand. She opens her hand again to let the feather free. The feather floats away in the breeze, and floats upwards into the sky.

The sky becomes dark and cloudy. A stroke of lightning strikes the sky with a flash, then disappears as quickly as it came. It is not raining, though, nor thundering. There is no storm.

The feather in the sky morphs into a sword, a gunblade. A revolver handgun that becomes a sharp sword at the tip about two feet long. The gunblade falls to the ground and strikes gray dirt and rock.

A seventeen-year-old boy with medium-length brown hair grabs the handle of the sword. He has messy hair, yet pulled to the sides to reveal his face. He has hazel eyes any woman would get lost in and a necklace with the "lionhearted" symbol on the chain. It shows a lion's head with a pointed edge at the bottom, symbolizing the gunblade and his personality.

He wears a white T-shirt underneath a black leather jacket with white feathers on the hood. He has three maroon-red belts, one holding up his black pants, and the other two loose, wrapped around the other. He wears the same black shoes the girl in the field is wearing, though he's never met her before. This young man's name is Squall Leonheart.

He pulls the sword out of the dirt, and two gunblades collide. There is another boy at the same age as Squall. He is a few inches taller, he has very short, blonde hair that sticks up and halfway backwards. He wears a white trench coat, with large red plus symbols on the sleeves. The trench coat is opened, with a blue, skin-tight shirt underneath. The shirt has a white cross on the front, and the bottom end slightly covers the top of his navy blue jeans. This boy with the other gunblade's name is Seifer Almasy.

The boys get caught in a battle of sparks and metal. Neither one gets sliced, stabbed, nothing. Each of them parries the other's blows.

As Squall goes to slice Seifer, he blocks the attack with one of his own. The swords collide, and just as suddenly hit off, they go back for another attack.

Seifer steps back and beckons for Squall to battle him some more. Squall accepts the challenge, and hits Seifer's black gunblade. The blow ricochets off of the blade, and sends Squall backwards. He stumbles, but he manages to keep himself up on his feet.

Seifer holds out his open hand and releases a Fire spell. This causes Squall to fall onto the ground. As Squall tries to recover and get himself back up, Seifer lifts his sword into the air, and he slices downwards with a grin on his face.

The sword strikes skin, but only barely. Squall pulls his head away immediately after this happens. Blood spills onto the ground, and Squall looks back up at Seifer to show the blood dripping across his face, the diagonal cut across his forehead and most of all, his hatred.

He lowers his gunblade to prepare for an uppercut, the tip of the blade skimming the ground. He runs forward towards Seifer, and lifts his sword to return the favor. As this happens, feathers release from the thin side of the blade, and Squall blacked out.

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**End of Prologue**

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_Author's Note: _Hope you liked it! Review and tell me if you did or not, and what I could do to make it better! PLEASE! Anyway, yeah... So I guess I'll see you next chapter... See ya!


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